Night Off
by Shadow Padawan
Summary: [The Imitation Game] Alan and Joan are perfect for each other. Peter can't flirt. John's gaydar is accurate for a reason. And Hugh is just sort of oblivious. Or: an expansion of Joan and Alan's engagement party.


"Hugh, I really don't think…"

"Well, that's alright, it's not really about thinking at all." Hugh grins good-naturedly, nudging Peter through the doors of the local bar.

"But I don't know how to…you know." Peter's blushing. They hadn't even gotten started yet and he's already bright red. This was why he had gone for an extended smoke anyway after his dance with—Lucy? Was that her name?

"Flirt?"

"Yes."

Hugh is smirking again. "That's quite alright. Alan doesn't know how to either and he's doing fine." High nods toward where Joan and Alan are still dancing. Alan looks a little awkward on the dance floor; just the whole idea of relaxed interaction with other people seems foreign to him, poor sod. Joan has to do most of the leading, just the way she leads him in other social interactions and settings. Hugh has to admit that Joan and Alan could not be more perfect for each other: both sharply intelligent, both a little off-standard socially, and they are wonderfully capable of reading each other's mind.

"It's not the same thing," Peter mumbles, edging away from the bar and toward their own table where John is still comfortably situated with a beer. If Peter has managed to make friends with anyone at Bletchley it is John. Mostly because John has that amicable nature which everyone seems to implicitly trust and relate to. Peter, quiet and feeling out of place among colleagues older and more experienced, can't help but feel somewhat intimidated. The pressure of trying to crack Enigma every day is hard enough. Not being able to talk about that pressure is even harder. Alan is awkward and in his own head. Hugh is amiable but aloof. Joan is…a woman – an older woman – which is mildly terrifying in and of itself. But John is almost like an older brother, both calm and sympathetic at the same time. He reminds Peter of Phillip and it helps.

"Oh, come on. It's not that hard."

"I'm serious. Joan and Alan are on the same wavelength..."

"That's probably why they're engaged."

Hugh is looking at him with amusement and Peter waves him off. "And you're on the same wavelength with _every_ girl. Go bother John."

"No, I'd rather watch you flounder," Hugh says, still smirking. "Now where is that pretty bird of yours? What was her name?"

"Lucy."

"Lucy. She's that tiny one. Ah there."

Peter looks up and watches the girl he had danced with a few minutes ago giggling and talking with her friends. She's petite and doll-faced, pretty in a safe sort of way. "Alright, what do I do?"

"Ask her for another dance?"

"Then what?"

Hugh rolls his eyes. "I really don't understand, Peter. You talk to us."

"Yes, about…work. And maths. And the war."

Hugh frowns. "Alright, maybe don't talk to her about those things."

Peter rolls his eyes. "Forget it. I'm going to get another drink."

"Peter—Peter come back!" Hugh laughs but lets him go. He has spotted a pretty redhead across the room and decided to give her his valuable time instead. After all, they don't get a lot of nights off in this job.

Peter buys himself another bear and goes to join John at their table. "You're not dancing," Peter says.

"Not much of a dancer. Cheers." They clink glasses and drink.

Peter watches John out of the corner of his eyes and says slyly. "Unless you're very-very drunk. Like during the New Years—"

"Let's not talk about that," John cuts him off but he does not seem either embarrassed or annoyed. Mostly mildly amused.

"I wouldn't mind a repeat."

"I'm sure you wouldn't. What were you and Hugh talking about over there? He seemed amused."

"He was trying to get me flirt with that girl I was dancing with earlier. I told him to sod off."

"You should have squeezed some pointers out of him instead."

Peter rolls his eyes. "No thanks. I could never do what Hugh does. Anyway, if Alan could find a girl, I'm sure I will one day too."

John gives him a careful sideways glance and chooses to take a drink of bear instead of answering. He thinks of what Alan had told him earlier. About being a homosexual. But John could hardly tell Peter that Alan didn't exactly _find a girl_ in the traditional sense.

What Alan had said does not bother John. It also had not surprised him. John is not sure how, but he had guessed at Alan's affliction some time ago. John could never be able to say how he had known, how he so often could pick out who was interested in men and who was not. He had, at some point, read or heard somewhere that homosexuals could _sense_ each other. The notion does strike him as somewhat ridiculous. Besides, he does not consider himself a homosexual. True, he acknowledges Hugh's undeniable attractiveness and Peter makes him feel warm and protective, but those could all be explained away by perfectly reasonable things like…objective aesthetic appreciation and friendship. Or something of the like. John is already carrying a deep and dangerous secret. One that could land him in front of a firing squad, not just in a jail cell, if anyone found out. He does not need to consider any more secrets that may lurk within him.

He looks over at Peter who seems to be staring into space. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing. Just tired."

"Do you want to go?"

Peter looks over at him and slowly shakes his head. "No. I like watching Alan and Joan dance. I think she's trying to teach him Lindy."

"Oh boy."

They laugh and drink and watch Alan struggling to keep up with Joan in order to oblige her. They really are perfect for one another.

"Have you heard from your brother lately?"

Peter nods slowly, not looking over at John, hiding partially behind his beer. He doesn't like to talk about Phillip. Worrying about Phillip is hard enough without having to pretend to other people how hard it really is. "I had a letter the other day. He's well."

John reaches out and puts one hand on Peter's shoulder. "We'll crack that Enigma code eventually." John isn't sure if he believes that himself, but he feels like he has to say something.

"I hope so," Peter says, almost inaudibly right before the music ends.

John starts to say something else. He's not even sure what it is he means to say. Something comforting probably. Maybe something reckless, something that will get him in trouble…

But the song ends and Alan, Joan and Hugh rejoin them at the table. John sits back and goes back to pretending that out of all of them he has the least secrets, instead of the most.


End file.
